


Innocent Days

by Tayani



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea how Japanese foster system works, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tayani/pseuds/Tayani
Summary: Sometimes, the fate of the universe can be decided by one simple sentence. Sometimes, one’s whole future can be changed by a simple word.“I’m Akira! Wanna be friends?”Neither of the boys knew it yet, but this was such moment – when the universe shifted and changed its course, just as easily as Goro smiled back and nodded.“Okay.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnstableFable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnstableFable/gifts).



They were five years old.

One would say, there was nothing special about them – or about this day. The day they first met, two little boys who came late to the first day of their kindergarten. In Akira’s case, the lateness was caused by the fact his mother had more important things to worry about than getting her only son to the kindergarten on time, or making sure he had everything so that they won’t need to come back home for things he might have forgotten; in Goro’s, it was because the young social worker taking care of him at that particular time was an extremely busy person, and he wasn’t their only charge to take care of.

And so, there they stood, two little boys; one hugging a plushie tightly to his chest, the other covered in little band-aids and looking sulky, stepping from one foot to the other as they waited for their caretakers to settle everything with the kindergarten staff. The two women discussed things with the person behind the counter neither of the boys cared nor were interested in – about the meals, allergies, medicines and their individual behaviour, about what they liked and disliked to do, what they already knew and what they had to learn before entering elementary school. On the level of their caretakers’ legs, the two boys were getting anxious and bored; and naturally, they turned their attention to one another.

Akira was the first one to speak up – and smiled brightly, watching the other’s eyes widen as he looked at him.

“What’s your name?” he asked, with simple curiosity.

“…Goro.” the boy replied, and seemed to be surprised when Akira’s bright smile only widened.

Sometimes, the fate of the universe can be decided by one simple sentence. Sometimes, one’s whole future can be changed by a simple word.

“I’m Akira! Wanna be friends?”

Neither of the boys knew it yet, but this was such moment – when the universe shifted and changed its course, just as easily as Goro smiled back and nodded.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

For the first few days in the kindergarten, they were inseparable. It has proven to be a problem right from the start – as, at the end of the first day, Akira hugged Goro and refused to let go, no matter how much his mother tugged at his arm or how much the social worker explained to them that they needed to go – to their own separate homes – but will return the next day, and be able to play together once more.

“…but I don’t _have_ a home.” Goro murmured, and though he wasn’t refusing his caretaker’s insistent hand quite as much as Akira has, he tightened his hug on the other boy, too, until the two women sighed and let the boys hug it out, allowing them a few more minutes – on the condition they will go home without crying afterwards.

This happened the next day, too, and the next; until they finally stopped, after Akira’s mother threatened she will transfer him to another kindergarten if they won’t stop causing problems. They were both sulking for the next week, but listened; and remained inseparable whenever allowed to.

They played together, talked together, ate together. During afternoon naps, they’d cuddle in blankets together, looking cute enough most of the staff at the kindergarten would come over to tuck them in just to look at the adorable sight of how much these two boys caught one another’s hearts. Why and how that had happened, neither the caretakers nor parents could tell; because, in their eyes, there were hardly ever two little boys more _different_ than Akira and Goro was.

Akira was the only child of a happy family; with his mother working from home, and his father a successful businessman, Akira never lacked in anything apart from his parents’ time. He had new clothes, toys, he was never hungry or abused. In front of the teachers or strangers, Akira was somewhat shy, but he quickly turned leader in any group he became the part of. Smaller children adored him; and he has quickly proven to be a major pain for any child bigger and meaner, who tried to take advantage of their size or age.

Goro, on the other hand, was smaller and quieter in front of everyone but Akira. He was an extremely unsociable child; shunning away from everyone. He was an orphan, only moved to this little town because of a place he was promised at a local orphanage and the prospective foster family ready to take him in; and immediately became a target for bullies, what with his old hand-me-down clothes and quiet exterior. What he went through before he appeared there, no one but Akira fully knew; and even Akira found out about this not over the first few days, but over months and years, little by little. Goro was a people-pleaser, too; always polite and sweet to the adults, always best at everything even remotely academic, he possessed the competitive spirit Akira himself lacked. He _had to_ be best at everything. Contrary to his best friend, he never ran about just for the sake of it; or laughed in front of other people; or had _fun_.

That is, on his own. He seemed a different boy entirely near Akira.

“Here.” Akira smiled as he sat down next to Goro, after their first few weeks at the kindergarten; looking ruffled and with his clothes all wrinkled and in disarray, but victorious. He handed Goro’s favourite toy – the figurine of Featherman Black – to the boy, who hugged it to his chest and beamed at him like he never beamed at anyone else. It became some sort of sport for older kids, to take it away and hide it, or else refuse to give it back. And Akira was always happy to fight for it, so that his best friend could play with his favourite toy – because Akira knew that out of the kindergarten, Goro had hardly any toys, other than what he had borrowed him or made himself.

“Aki-chan is a hero.” Goro murmured, and Akira grinned, leaping back to his feet and making a pose; grinning all the more when that made Goro laugh quietly, helplessly.

“Goro-chan, you’re a hero too, though.” the raven boy continued, once he stopped being silly and sat down again. Goro shook his head, smiling sadly.

“I’m not… I can never stand up for anyone.”

“Yes, you do!” Akira huffed, poking Goro’s side. “You made the teacher stop Kobayashi-kun from teasing Hana-chan, haven’t you! I know it was you!”

“But it’s not being a hero to ask a teacher for help…”

“It is! Heroes who just run about doing everything by themselves are boring. I like Goro-chan more.” Akira huffed again and ran off in search for _his_ favourite toy. He left Goro sitting there; with a little, very non-Goro grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

The first year of elementary school saw the two boys cry insistently, until finally, after having been referred to the authority of first their homeroom teacher and then the headmaster himself the adults gave up and allowed them to sit next to each other in class, despite their surnames being quite off. Boys weren’t supposed to cry, the two of them have been told, but Akira and Goro has weaponized crying and honed it to perfection to get what they wanted. And what they wanted, most of all, every day, was to stay together – the two of them against the whole world.

The first few days in the kindergarten were an indication of things to come; by now, it was rare to see either of the boys apart from the other one. At school, during classes or breaks alike, they were always together. They walked to Akira’s home together, and the amount of nights Goro had stayed over was starting to become more numerable than the amount he stayed at his own foster home. It wasn’t that he liked staying there in the first place.

Akira’s parents didn’t mind, either, for the most part. His mother never liked Goro’s presence, but as the boy effectively stopped Akira from bothering her, she allowed it – even accommodated it. Akira’s father, on the rare occasions he had a day off or was home early from work, played with the boys as if Goro was just as much a son to him as Akira was; giving them piggyback rides, tickling them, even taking them out for fishing trips or hikes over the nearby mountain. Goro’s foster parents didn’t mind; they didn’t really care much. Goro repeated an overheard conversation he listened on in to Akira one time; he was only a source of money to them. They were getting paid by the government to take him in, and that was all Goro ever mattered.

It was right at the start of the second year of their elementary school. Akira was running over the school grounds, looking lost and rather unhappy; searching for someone insistently. By now, all of the school knew he was missing his other half somewhere; especially judging by the two sandwiches and two cartons of strawberry milk the boy was carrying as he ran.

Goro was quiet for the first two periods; and a ten-minute break wasn’t enough for Akira to find out what was wrong. Now, that they had a lunch free, he was looking for his best friend, worried and frowning, not sure what had happened that would make Goro disappear.

He had finally spotted him, on the playground; swinging softly on one of the swings in the warm, afternoon air. Several other children were playing on the slide, but none of them came close to Goro; they never did. Akira, on the other hand, made a beeline for his friend, waving at him happily.

“Gocchan~” he called, before plopping onto the swing next to the boy, reaching his lunch out to him; only to frown when he saw Goro’s red eyes and tear-stained face. Akira’s own little face scrunched up in worry as he leaned in, patting Goro’s head lightly. It wasn’t often that Goro had cried; and every time he did, he’d go somewhere he could be alone at, not wanting to show his weakness to anyone else.

“…they’ve been arguing again?” Akira asked softly, a warm note of understanding in his voice. This wasn’t the first time. Goro nodded shakily, and Akira felt his eyes fill with tears. He was crying even before he pulled at Goro’s shirt, watching the edge of one of the angry bruises come into view, before disappearing again when the other boy flinched away.

“I’m sorry…” Akira mumbled, sniffling as he continued to cry; quietly, his little shoulders shaking in stifled, quiet sobs. Goro looked at him; his lip was trembling, a whole new batch of tears ready to be spilled.

“…why are you crying, Aki-chan? I don’t want you to cry…” he sobbed out, reaching his arms out to hug him. Akira shook his head, now sobbing uncontrollably. In the many fights he had with older kids, with bullies, Akira could get hit hard, but wouldn’t cry. He had once fell down from a shelf he has been climbing on to reach the cookies the teachers hid there and broken his arm, and he almost fainted from pain, but scrunched his face up and wouldn’t cry.

All it took was for his friend to get hurt, though; for his friend to be in pain for Akira to be unable to contain his tears.

“I don’t like you getting hurt…”

 

* * *

 

They were nine; and sitting in the small spot on the grounds where the wide trunk of the tree hid them from view from school. Goro looked a lot healthier; most of the ever-present band-aids and bandages gone from his little body, and his uniform still old and hand-me-down, but looking clean and pressed. He was checking Akira’s homework for him – nose wrinkled and the end of his tongue sticking out as he pain-stakingly fished out any mistakes and corrected them.

Goro was always the better one at academics and sports out of the two of them. He preferred to stay in with a book and study or practice writing to going out, like Akira would love to, or playing video games whole day long. Perhaps thanks to this, or perhaps just thanks to Goro being naturally the smarter of the two, he had always excelled, and still find the time to help his best friend. He never let him copy, but would check his homework and correct it like right now, as Akira watched him, picking up wild flowers blooming all around them and weaving them painstakingly into a beautiful flower crown he then set on Goro’s head. The boy grinned, looking up before throwing the notebook at Akira.

“You’re getting better at kanji.” he said proudly. “Not as good as me, though.”

“How do you know I’m not just making mistakes so you’ll have more work?” Akira bit back, and they both laughed, slumping back against the tree, heads resting against one another. The flower crown was scratching lightly against his head, but Goro didn’t mind; he reached his hand up, fingertips brushing over the flowers gently as a smile danced on his lips.

“I don’t mind having more work, you know. I could correct your things forever, you just need to pay me in cream puffs.” he mumbled. Akira grinned back, taking Goro’s hand in his own.

“Okay. Then we can be together forever. Like mum and dad! We can marry, too.”

“Aki-chan,” Goro sighed, rolling his eyes with the kind of grown-up exasperation some other children often mocked him for. “We can’t marry, we’re both boys, and we’re not grown-up yet.”

“Dad said boys can marry boys! In some places!” Akira frowned, pouting as he looked over at Goro’s exasperated expression. “And I want to marry you. You’re my best friend!”

“But we still can’t, because we’re not grown-up.” Goro argued, though he grinned at Akira’s pout. “But we can be… um…” he wrinkled his nose again. “Fi--- _finses_. Or… finces. It’s when you can’t marry yet, but you want to! You wear rings to show you’re going to marry soon and everything… the nice lady who took me away from the other house is a fince now. She has this beautiful sparkly ring!”

“I don’t have a sparkly ring, though…” Akira frowned again, before grinning brightly; and grabbing his school bag, throwing it upside-down as he fished for the item he was looking for. Goro watched in amusement as he tore through his things, before coming up with two rings; and Goro blinked and blushed deeply, leaning away.

“No way! You can’t give me that! It was your lottery win!” he exclaimed, while Akira grinned, handing him one of the two rings. Slowly, as if not believing his luck, Goro closed his hands carefully around the plastic Featherman Red ring; while Akira looked over his Black one. These rings have been the source of Goro’s envy and admiration for the past week, ever since Akira won them at the arcade. And now he had one…

“There. You get Red, because he’s my favourite, and I get Black, because he’s yours. So now we’re finces, too. And when we grow up, we’re going to marry! And then we’ll be together forever.” Akira nodded to himself, and grinned back at Goro, who hugged the ring to his chest and beamed back.

“Okay!” he murmured with a smile. “I want to be with you forever, too… If it’s Aki-chan, I don’t mind marrying you, either.”

 

* * *

 

Akira was crying. His mother was wiping his face and reprimanding him in a harsh, stern voice, but he didn’t care; nor did he care about the stares he pulled on them, no matter how silent he was trying to be. Goro’s lip was trembling. He was holding the social worker’s hand with one of his own, but though she was tugging on it, he didn’t move, his other one clasped hard in Akira’s grasp.

“I don’t— I don’t want you to go…” Akira sobbed, pushing his mother’s hand away and running forward, hugging Goro tightly. The social worker finally relented and sighed, watching as the two boys hugged.

“I don’t want to go, either.” Goro whispered, shaking. Akira knew that if he didn’t force himself not to, he would be sobbing as well – and squeezed him harder, twisting his hands in Goro’s too-big clothes.

They were both ten years old; just a few days after Akira’s birthday. Goro – after he’s been taken away from the foster home that abused him, and stayed a few years at the local orphanage, has been transferred somewhere else – where, neither of the boys knew. He was supposed to live with a new family now, somewhere far away; and neither of the boys could do anything about it. They were just minutes until the departure of Goro’s train now. Akira’s mother started to tug on him insistently once more, though her voice has been deafened by his sobs.

And then, Akira thought of something; and he leaned back, cupping Goro’s cheeks clumsily with his hands, squishing them lightly.

“…you’ll call, right?” he mumbled through tears. Goro nodded, sniffling. “And you’ll visit? And I’ll visit you? And… and we’ll find each other again, right? Later. When… when we’re both grown up?”

Another nod. Akira sniffled and leaned in; smooching Goro on the lips before letting him go.

“T-there. You said first kisses were important, right? So I’m stealing yours! You need to find me to take it back now!”

Goro stared, reaching his hand up to his lips. The two women standing over them looked rather shocked, but neither of the boys cared; and then, Goro started to cry as well, smiling through his tears.

“Okay.” he mumbled, sniffling and taking a step back, reaching his hand to hold the social worker’s one again. “And… and you can’t kiss anyone else! Because… because you have… you have my first kiss. So until I take it back, you can’t give it to anyone else!” he sobbed again, and Akira nodded.

They had watched Goro and the social worker disappear behind the gates; Akira still through tears, his mother reprimanding him for something or the other again. The raven-haired boy had one hand in his pocket, squeezing a Featherman Black ring he had there tightly in his fist.

Surely, he will see his best friend soon. Surely, the moment Goro settles in, they will meet again; or maybe spend the whole vacation together, like usual.

Certainly, he won’t be waiting for long. And he will keep his promise.

He will keep his promise, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Curos for helping me with this story. You're the best! And also big thanks to UnstableFable for pitching the idea to me!
> 
> After this story is complete, I plan on writing another three-chapter for it, set in the same universe and timeline, called "Sorrowful Days" - and after that is done, there will be one last installment, titled "Ethereal Days", also a three-parter. As every one of these is its own story, however, this is how I decided to split it up. I hope you don't mind and well, expect more of this AU is really all I can say here! ^^ 
> 
> Next chapter on November 28th
> 
> If you like my stories, you can find me on twitter [@mikan_writings](https://twitter.com/mikan_writings) and/or tumblr at [mikan_writings](https://mikan-writings.tumblr.com/)!


	2. Chapter 2

_Seven years later_

It was hard to assimilate into the bustle and haste of Tokyo’s everyday life. Having spent the entirety of his childhood and adolescence in a little town far away, where no one ever hurried anywhere and most people knew each other, Akira found it difficult to exist in a place where he was being asked to remember three different transfers to go on a damn school trip.

Akira Kurusu has grown up. So effectively, in fact, that he has gotten himself arrested somewhere along the way and sent on probation to live in Tokyo. Alone, with no family, no friends…

…well, it wasn’t like he had either of those to begin with.

His parents were going through a divorce; Akira didn’t care why anymore. They have been going through it – going back and forth, arguing, reconciling, going back and forth again – for years now. By the time of his probation hearing, his assault case was just another topic for them to yell at one another for. Neither of them cared enough to check how Akira was feeling; whether he had had a good reason to push the stranger away or not. They didn’t care about anything but themselves.

Friends weren’t something Akira was going to miss, either. Adolescence wasn’t an easy one for the raven-haired boy. Ever since Goro had left – the memory bringing a painful sting to his heart even now, so many years later – Akira became unsociable. People whom he’d usually protect others from now started to pick on him; he was an easy target, and he didn’t really try to fight back against them anymore. By the time he entered high school, Akira had no one he could call a close friend at all. They were just acquaintances. He doubted any of them would even realize he was gone.

Even just a few months into his life in Tokyo, he already preferred it here. Sojiro’s café might have not been meant to be a living space, but it was fairly comfortable and spacious; the man himself was gruff and strict, but at least no one was arguing on the other side of the wall, and during the nights, it was peaceful and quiet. Akira didn’t need to listen to his mother sobbing in her bed; he didn’t need to hear his father pace in his study, unable to sleep. And at least he didn’t need to live in a place where every day, he felt the empty space where Goro had once been, an integral part of his life for most of his childhood.

Akira never really stopped hurting, thinking about this. Sometimes, he wouldn’t think of Goro for days or weeks; but there was always something that pulled his mind back to his best friend, his childhood sweetheart. In the darkest hours, Akira still found himself longing for his company; wondering who he was now, where he was, why did he gave up on him. Whether he’d find him one day, after all; whether he was still out there, somewhere.

Ann, Ryuuji, Yusuke and Morgana were a good way of distracting himself from the ever-present loss of the one friend he once hoped to spend forever with. His new friends were loyal, understanding; they filled with their presence the gaps Akira wasn’t aware he had in his life. It was easier – to go to school every day knowing he had people who were there for him; who wouldn’t just disappear without a word. In Morgana’s case, it was the opposite – he couldn’t get the cat to leave him alone, and though Akira enjoyed the company most of the time, being supervised 24/7 came with its own onset of problems.

Still, living with a talking cat, making friends out of people he had helped and could count on and spending all of his free time infiltrating a strange world behind the reality, shifting and ever-changing around him, stealing hearts and reforming society… Akira still wasn’t sure how has this become his daily life.

One thing he was certain of, however. This life was better than what he had left behind.

The day of the social studies trip greeted him way too early; with Morgana stirring awake from a nightmare; and dragged on way too long. It was boring, and tiring, but at least he had Ryuuji and Ann to talk to; and after they were done moving the cables and reunited with harassed-looking Ann, they could even make plans for later…

“Let’s just go to Dome Town! I’m really feelin’ it now.” Ryuuji grinned, rolling his arms lightly. Akira smiled, nodding in agreement. After a boring day like that, he could do with some scary rides; something to take his mind off things. He couldn’t even remember when was the last time he went to an amusement park with anyone – it wasn’t like his parents ever had the time to take him. Now, with his friends, he could finally have some fun… god knows they all deserved it.

“Me too! My stomach’s ready for roller coasters!” Ann chirped in.

“Uh... I think I’ll pass on the puke rides…”

Akira was just about to laugh and reply to Morgana’s rather distressed meow, when they heard footsteps; and then, a boy entered the small corridor they have hidden in, from Kawakami and anyone who could tell them to get back to work… or, erm, _helping_ the TV crew with their own mundane tasks.

Akira did a double-take and stilled; his hand half-raised where it was, about to reach behind Morgana’s ears, his mouth hanging open. He could not believe what he was seeing. Who _would_ believe? It has been seven years… Who would ever guess that, on a school trip from a school he wasn’t supposed to be attending, in a city he has never visited before, in a dreary corridor he wasn’t supposed to be standing in… Akira would run into a boy he thought to have lost seven years ago?

Goro was tall – taller by some inch than Akira himself was, and dressed in a pristine-looking uniform. His hair was longer than Akira had remembered it, and his face lost its childish roundness. Before Akira, there stood not the small boy he remembered so well, but a young, handsome man – and yet, it was still him. No one else could have hair this soft and light brown, framing his face so prettily; no one else could have eyes this crimson and sharp, eyes that pierced through everything and everyone they looked at.

Akira felt his heart hammer against his ribs, like a bird trying to escape its cage; and felt a sudden wave of weakness wash over him, still hardly able to comprehend that here, out of all places, he had finally met Goro again…

“… _Goro_.” it was hardly more than a breath; the way the name left his lips. Akira’s friends looked over at him in surprise; and Goro blinked, polite confusion visible on his face. It was the kind of mask Akira had seen him pull on countless times before, whenever he spoke to teachers, or adults he didn’t know and didn’t trust; and seeing it directed at him was as surprising as it was painful.

“I’m afraid you have an advantage over me. Or do we know each other?” the boy laughed softly, and the laugher was fake and plastic; it made Akira sick. “No… excuse me if I’m wrong, but these uniforms… you three are from Shujin Academy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, whaddya want?” Ryuuji shrugged, still glancing in surprise at Akira, who stood there, frozen; unable to decide how to feel.

“I happened to be passing by, so it seemed polite to greet you. We’ll be filming together, after all. Ah, where are my manners… my name is Goro Akechi.”

So it _was_ him. Akira stared in disbelief. Over the last few minutes, he started to think, wildly, that maybe this wasn’t Goro after all. That maybe he simply mistook a person that looked uncannily like his friend to be him. And yet, it was him, it definitely had to be… Why didn’t Goro recognize him? Did Akira change this much? Was he unrecognizable to his friend, or was Goro just pretending he didn’t know him? No… Goro always knew how to pretend, but even he couldn’t be this good an actor. It’s been seven years, and they ran into one another by accident; if he had recognized him, he would have acted surprised, even just a bit. Has he forgotten him then, this easily?

“Akechi…?” Ann hummed, blinking at the detective.

“Filming? What, you a celebrity?”

“Only to the extent of appearing on TV a couple of times.” Goro chuckled again, that insufferable, fake chuckle. “My apologies… I truly was just passing by. I must be going. There’s a briefing for tomorrow’s recording that I have to attend.” he smiled apologetically again.

“So… you’re going to go have cake now? I missed lunch today, so I’m quite hungry myself…”

 “Eh? What are you talking about?” Ryuuji stared, and Goro looked slightly taken aback. As he was explaining what he had overheard, Akira couldn’t help but think that this was strange; but he found he couldn’t bring himself to care, or even to really listen. All of a sudden, he felt like crying – like he was a child all over again, watching his friend disappear, never to return.

Goro left; and Akira felt the world spinning around him come to a stop.

 _He’s forgotten me. He’s… really forgotten_.

“Welp, that was weird.” Ryuuji hummed, before shrugging as he looked at Akira with a frown. “Hey, mate… you okay over there? You look kinda pale…”

“I… I need to go home.” Akira whispered, turned and walked away, unable to bear being in his friends’ company right now. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear having to explain what has happened just now. Not to them… not to anyone.

_He’s forgotten me…_

“…Akira?” Morgana murmured, quietly, once they were on the train. Akira bit his lip and looked down, shaking his head; and his friend sighed, but complied and didn’t ask, keeping silent for the rest of their ride back home.

 

* * *

 

The next day was only worse. Akira had spent the whole of previous evening researching _Goro Akechi_ on his phone – and didn’t know whether he should feel better or worse for what he had found. For he found a boy he didn’t recognize – a celebrity, a detective, a media darling.

An empty shell – all that was left of his childhood sweetheart.

Every video the raven watched was empty. Every laughter Goro now spilled left and right felt fake.

 _What had happened to him_ …? How can one person change this much, become this much less of what they once were? Akira didn’t understand this; but what he saw felt like his heart has been torn into shreds. Goro grew up to be beautiful, smart and _broken_ – and Akira felt like he has been cut away, together with all of Goro’s genuine smiles, with his laughter, with a nose that wrinkled when he frowned, with freckles that littered his face and shoulders when he stayed out in the sun for too long. Goro Akechi he saw now – in the interviews and fans’ pictures – was a stranger to him. A stranger, wearing his best friend’s face…

Watching him fake it in front of the audience was excruciating. Watching him look at him again, when Akira has been asked a question about the Phantom Thieves that suddenly became so irrelevant in his mind, was even worse. Because these crimson eyes he remembered so well held no recognition, no smile; just interest, as if Akira was one of the butterflies Goro would catch sometimes, when they were young; holding them in his hands and thrusting them right before Akira’s nose, so that he could see the beautiful butterfly when it flew away the moment Goro opened his hands.

None of his friends knew what was happening; he never explained it to them, and they quickly stopped asking. But, after the filming was done and Akira could finally go home, they left him alone, and he was thankful for it. Morgana nudged his arm lightly and Akira smiled down at him, trying to shake himself off.

He will go home now – go home, and try to forget Goro Akechi existed – because the one he knew, the one he missed, the one he waited for seven years of his life was gone; and Akira didn’t think he himself has been missed at all.

“Oh… it’s you!”

Whichever god was looking had to be cruel; for that familiar voice to call him like that, and give him hope that maybe, just maybe he was wrong. But Akira turned and saw Akechi’s eyes shine with the same mild curiosity as before – closed off and distant. He was starting to hate that look on him. He was starting to hate watching him like this.

“I’m glad I found you. I wanted to thank you in person.” Akechi said, oblivious to what was happening in the raven’s heart. He smiled at him politely again, these lips he had kissed once and promised to kiss again twisting in an unfamiliar grimace. Akira felt something break; some part, deep inside his heart, has shattered, and the pieces cut and slashed, until the pain made the raven want to break down and cry.

And Akechi just continued talking; as if he didn’t know. As if they were just strangers, meeting for the very first time, and he wanted to show off.

“To paraphrase Hegel—”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Akira interrupted quietly, watching as Akechi blinked, frowning at him. So, he still disliked being interrupted, did he?

“I think I have something of yours.”

“…oh?” Akechi tilted his head, that polite curiosity shining through once more, but there was uncertainty there this time, too. Akira looked up at him, seeking, one last time, for a sliver of recognition that was no longer there in these crimson eyes. “…really? Did I drop something? I had no idea—”

“No.” the raven shook his head. “You actually gave it to me, for safekeeping. You can have it back now, though.” Akira said, watching as Akechi looked at him incredulously. He didn’t know what made him do it. Akechi didn’t move back when Akira stepped closer, frozen, taken completely by surprise. Only his wide, crimson eyes blinked when the raven cupped both his cheeks gently in his hands, and watched as Akechi’s lips parted, as if he wanted to say something; the words that never came.

“I don’t want it anymore.” Akira whispered and leaned in; pressing their lips together briefly, _coldly_. It was nothing like that first kiss, seven years ago; the clumsy one, tasting of tears but warm and sweet and full of promise.

This one… this one felt _dead_.

“…first kisses were supposed to be important, weren’t they? Or have you forgotten that, too?” Akira whispered when they parted, not trying to keep the hurt out of his voice anymore. Goro was staring at him, flushed and in shock; and Akira stepped back, shook his head and ran, before the tears gathering in his eyes could spill over in front of the man who was once his best friend – and who had been so much more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you like my stories, you can find me on twitter [@mikan_writings](https://twitter.com/mikan_writings) and/or tumblr at [mikan_writings](https://mikan-writings.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Next update on December 5th


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks passed, and though Ann promised him time will make the pain go away, Akira felt like it will never get better; like he will never be able to get over the hurt that now took root in his heart, taking it over more and more with every breath.

He had told his friends who Goro used to be to him; and who Akechi no longer was. He had told them, even if briefly and barely hinting at how deep that connection used to run; and they understood, comforted and supported him. Akechi’s interview was a success, and though the Phantom Thieves tried to help Akira avoid the painful topic the best they could, none of them could keep the sudden omnipresence of Akechi away from him.

For his part, Akira had resigned himself. He had thrown himself into studying and infiltrating the Metaverse, into changing as many lives for the better as he could, if only to prove Akechi wrong, if only to throw it in his face how wrong about the Phantom Thieves he was. Makoto investigating them came almost as a relief. Now he had an even bigger target he could focus on. For few hours, a day, a week – he could forget the empty eyes of the boy he once promised to spend his forever with, and instead destroyed Shadows left and right, as if each and every one of them was another painful memory he wanted to get rid of.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves – and even Makoto, once she had joined them fully – were worried about this change in him, but none of them dared question his commands or the rather demanding training and infiltration schedule he has ended up asking them to take. For one, it worked very well. They have managed to claw and rip their way through Kaneshiro’s Palace all in one day, and the next, they were all surprised by how _easily_ the damn Mafia boss fell; and Akira himself was particularly disappointed by it.

After a fight that was demanding enough and tiring enough, he could at least hope for a good night’s sleep – but the day they defeated Kaneshiro, he came back home feeling hardly even tired. He was debating going out somewhere, doing something – Morgana cleared out to somewhere and hopefully would not bully him into going to bed too early – but once Akira had climbed up to his attic and left his things there, he found he was unable to drag himself down the stairs once more.

Without as much as changing his clothes, he fell down onto the bed, closing his eyes – even though Akira knew the sleep won’t be coming to him for hours on end.

This was alright. He’ll just lay there, trying not to think; and eventually, perhaps he’ll be able to rest.

“Kid, your friend came to visit!”

How much time passed, since Akira closed his eyes, until Sojiro pulled him away from his thoughtless state, calling up to him? He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care. The idea that one of his friends came to visit without calling and without sending him a message beforehand annoyed the raven rather than made him happy. If they couldn’t even bother to announce themselves, Akira didn’t feel like moving from his position; the childish defiance giving him strange satisfaction. He heard the soft, slow footsteps climbing up the stairs hesitantly. This wasn’t Ryuuji or Ann; he didn’t hear them talk yet, for one. Did Makoto come to visit him, so late at night? That was unusual… or maybe it was Yusuke, in need of some late-night assistance with his work?

Whoever it was, they climbed to the attic already; and stood there for a moment, before walking closer. Akira felt the poor excuse for a bed dip as they sat down on the edge of it; and then, he felt a hand, careful and gentle, thread through his hair.

“It really is you… you grew your hair out, Aki-chan.” Goro Akechi said, in a soft voice; much more like the boy Akira had remembered. He opened his eyes sharply and jerked away, sitting up on the bed.

Goro was looking at him; his crimson eyes more alive and animated than he has seen them so far on that grown-up face; more like the boy he once knew, more like his friend; and making Akira’s heart ache all the more for it. For a moment, they stared at one another; and then Goro leaned back with a sigh, pushing a tuft of hair behind his ear.

“…I couldn’t believe it was you. After so long… what were the odds? I finally understand why you looked so distressed the first time I saw you. If you had just said anything…”

“You’ve forgotten me.” Akira said; he wished his voice didn’t sound this aggressive, this _angry_. And yet, some part of him thought that Goro deserved as much. There was dark satisfaction in watching the brunet recoil, and Akira went after the hit, moving away on the bed; backing into a corner, as far from the boy that was once his friend as he could.

“I’ve never forgotten you.” Goro said quietly, not looking at him. “I haven’t recognized you at first, but—”

“As if I had changed _this_ much. But it was just easier for you, wasn’t it? To throw me out of your life, the moment you got the chance; the moment you got a new one. Why are you even here, _Akechi-san_?”

The surname, the honorific; they sounded more like an insult than anything Akira could have possibly called Goro at that moment – and they were obviously taken as one. Akira could see Goro grow pale, as he always used to when angry. Under the makeup – for he was wearing makeup, now Akira could get a closer look – he could even see the rare freckle grow starker against the paleness of his face.

“A bit rich coming from _you_ , _Kurusu-kun_.” the brunet growled, leaping to his feet. There was something mean; something malicious in his eyes as he spat the words towards Akira, shaking in hidden anger. It has taken the raven aback; more so because he had no idea what Goro meant. Wasn’t _he_ the one who disappeared? Left, without a word?”

“…what the hell are you going on about?”

“It was easier for _me,_ was it, to throw you out of my life? And yet you couldn’t go a week without finding better friends to hang out with! You didn’t even want to talk to me!” Goro’s lip trembled and he looked away; the anger on his face turning briefly towards himself, rather than Akira.

“Five years of hardly a day we didn’t spend together, and my best friend couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone, or reply to one letter I sent him; and suddenly _I’m_ the bad guy, for _daring_ not to recognize you? Give me a break…”

“What the _hell_?” Akira frowned, standing up as well. “What are you _talking_ about? You _never_ called! I didn’t get one letter, not one! Do you think I wouldn’t have replied? If I knew your address in the first place, I’d have written to you every day, if only I could! Why would you—”

“I _wrote you_ my address! _And_ called! I couldn’t go for long without hearing your voice; I thought… I don’t know, that you’d have missed me, too! But when your mother picked up, she said… she said you were busy with someone else and said you don’t want to talk to me!” Goro sniffled; and in the cracks that appeared over his mask, Akira caught a glimpse of a little boy; sad and alone, trying not to cry into the phone.

All of a sudden, his heart turned freezing-cold.

Surely, this couldn’t have happened. Surely, his mother _wouldn’t_ …

“…I never got any letter.” Akira whispered quietly, staring at Goro with wide eyes. The brunet snorted and was about to say something else; but Akira shook his head, silencing him. “Goro… I went to check our mailbox twice a day, every day, for the last seven years. It didn’t matter what weather it was, it didn’t matter how early I had to wake up or how much time had passed. I never missed one letter that came to us; and none of them were from you.”

Goro was blinking at him now; his anger ebbing away, confusion taking its place.

“But… even if, then… the call…”

“I had no friends at our school, apart from you. I didn’t make any new ones. If anything… I lost every connection I ever had, because no one could ever fill in the gap you left. If I had heard you had called, do you think I could have been kept away? I had no idea you did. My mother… she never…”

“… _she never told you_ …? But I _heard her_ call your name… I thought…”

Goro’s legs wobbled suddenly; and Akira caught him, helping him down onto the bed. They stared at each other; and the raw, painful feeling tearing at Akira’s heart turned almost unbearable. For the first time in _years_ , he felt like that gaping hole in his heart was starting to fill in again. He felt his eyes water, because…

“How _could you_ even _think_ I wouldn’t have come…?” he whispered, shaking his head; his voice breaking. “Goro… three days after you left, I ran away from home to look for you. My mother caught me two blocks from the station. I ran off three more times before, a month later, I managed to slip onto the first train going in the same direction you went in. I left at every station, asked people for a little boy who looked like you… of course, no one could help me. When it got dark, I was so far away I had no idea how to get back home, much less any money for it. The police had to bring me back, and I got such a beating from my mother for that I didn’t try again… until a week later, that is.”

This seemed to have done it. All of a sudden, Goro’s arms were around him, and Akira has been pulled into a hug that he has missed being in for seven years; the only one that felt real, the only one that felt like _home_. His own arms wrapped around the other boy and they hugged, tightly, desperately; tears finally spilling as they snuggled to one another, rocking softly on the bed.

“But… the letters… what happened to my letters?” Goro whispered somewhere between soft, choked-back sobs; and Akira shook his head, only pulling him tighter against his chest.

“They never came. My mother couldn’t have taken them, she _couldn’t_ , I would have seen them… Could _your_ foster parents have—?”

“I… I suppose?” Goro hiccupped, leaning back. He pulled out a handkerchief from the bag he brought with himself and dried his eyes somewhat. He hesitated, and then started wiping Akira’s face for him, too; and Akira couldn’t help a smile as he let him do that, the action so much like Goro he knew; the one he missed, so desperately, for years. “I never… I didn’t have any money of my own, so I could only give the letters to them and ask them to post them… but they always said they did, I… god, _why_ would anyone lie to us like that? How _could they_ …?”

“Was that why you didn’t recognize me?” Akira whispered, brushing Goro’s hair away from his eyes. His friend smiled at him for at; a watery smile, but so beautiful it made Akira’s heart squeeze in his chest. He nodded, shakily.

“I… when I kept getting no replies, and after that call… I gave up, eventually. I _tried_ to forget you… it hurt so much, to keep remembering you. When I saw you back then, at the TV station… I _thought_ you looked familiar, but I didn’t _want_ to recognize in you the boy who left me so thoroughly. Akira… I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Akira sniffled; and they hugged one another again, smiling now, even if still doing so through tears. “I’m sorry, too… for saying all that… I didn’t mean it, I wanted… I wanted to hurt you…”

Goro shook his head, and only squeezed him harder; and for a long moment they simply stayed like this, without a word. There will be time to catch up yet – there will be time for seven years of life to be shared and discussed, for the bonds they had thought to be broken to be reconnected. Akira smiled; he felt his heart slowly melt, that invisible coating of ice around it disappear. It felt warm now; he felt _whole_. He had his Goro there, his best friend. And he will never again let him slip away from him. They will never again be torn apart.

“I missed you.” he whispered; and felt Goro shudder in his arms. “Even when I thought you gave up on me, I missed you, every single day of these miserable seven years. I never stopped wishing you never had left…”

And at that, Goro pulled away; his eyes shining and his long eyelashes thick with tears as he smiled and reached behind his collar; pulling out a leather strap with a tiny pouch on it. It was a simple necklace, not fitting the formal uniform Akira had seen him wear at the TV station, but looking quite stylish with the T-shirt and short jacket Goro was wearing right now. Slowly, he opened the pouch and took Akira’s hand; the contents of his necklace dropping onto the raven’s open palm.

“I missed you, too.” Goro whispered, looking up from their joined hands. Akira bit his lip, trying not to start crying again. After years of being held, carried, worn – the Red Featherman ring was chipped, the cheap paint on it faded and even wiped completely off in places, revealing a rather indistinct colour of the original plastic form. And yet, it was the same ring. Akira swallowed and moved away, grabbing his bag and pulling out his wallet. The ring hanging like a charm from it was evenly grey now rather than black, white and gold as it used to be; a part of it has broken off, but it was clean and obviously treasured. Goro took in a sharp breath, unhooking the worn-out ring gently from its strap and closing it in his hands, hugging it to his chest – carefully, like so many butterflies.

“…keeping your engagement ring by your wallet, really, Aki?” Goro choked out; and Akira sniffled as well, hugging him again. “You’re not romantic… not romantic at all…”

“I’ll propose to you again, if you want.” Akira whispered back, biting back tears; and felt Goro laugh softly against his neck as they hugged each other tightly, their rings clasped in their hands – the testimony that no matter their doubts, no matter their fears, no matter the universe itself… neither of them has ever truly given up on the other.

“With proper rings this time… with… with…”

He wasn’t able to finish the sentence. As they held each other, Akira could do nothing but sob; but he knew this was alright. Goro will know; Goro will understand.

They had found each other again, after seven years of misery; and no force in the world could break them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> If you like my stories, you can find me on twitter [@mikan_writings](https://twitter.com/mikan_writings) and/or tumblr at [mikan_writings](https://mikan-writings.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
